Claribel or, Rest at last
"Do you know anything about it, Priscilla?" asked Mr. Hausen, turning
to her.
"I know it is Claribel's book, and that it has been in her room since
I came here," answered Priscilla, coolly; "Fanny has seen it there as
well as myself. I am sorry to say so, and I wish I had held my peace;
but as long as Claribel seems to want to throw the blame on me, I must
tell the truth."
"What do you say, Fanny? Have you seen this book in Claribel's hands?"
"No, sir, not in her hands," answered Fanny, with some difficulty.
"But you saw it in her room?"
"Yes, sir;" and Fanny began to cry so that nothing more could be got
out of her.
"I shall suspend my judgment on this matter for the present," said Mr.
Hausen; "there is evidently an untruth somewhere. But remember this,
all of you, that the truth is likely to come out some time or other."
Mr. Hausen then made some remarks on the evils of bad books, and
dismissed the girls, requesting Claribel to remain behind for a while.
Of course the subject was talked over in all its bearings. Almost all
the girls took sides with Claribel.
"But Claribel does go away in the grove to read almost every day," said
one.
"What of that?" demanded Tilly. "It doesn't follow that she reads
bad books, does it? I think I have heard of people who went away by
themselves for other purposes. I no more believe that Claribel read
that book than that I did."
"Who do you think did read it, then?" asked Rebecca. "If you say it
wasn't Claribel, you accuse somebody else. Who do you think it was?"
"Who do I think it was?" repeated Tilly, turning upon her. "Well, if
you want to know, I think it may have been a girl who gets over the
back fence and runs away down to Sawyer's to buy candy and papers, if
you know any such person."
"What do you mean, Tilly?" asked one of the girls.
"Never mind," said Tilly; "I know what I mean, and so does somebody
else, perhaps. That book may have been Claribel's, as she says, but she
never brought it here."
"Then if you think she didn't, I suppose you think I did?" said
Priscilla. "What do you think of Fanny's seeing it in her room?"
"I think Fanny knows more than she chooses to tell," answered Tilly.
"Well, I don't see why you should all take Claribel's part," said
Priscilla. "Of course I am glad you do, because she is my cousin; only
that you can't excuse her without accusing me. If she did not bring it
here, who did?"
"Perhaps it is not hers, after all," suggested Percy. "Of course there
would be a great many of the same kind."
"Yes, but it is hers, because her name is written in it in two or three
places," said Rebecca.
"How does thee know that?" asked Eva Church, who had not spoken before.
"Because I saw it."
"I don't very well understand how thee could see it when the book never
left Robert Hausen's hands all the time he was talking," said Eva. "I
think that is rather curious, Rebecca."
"Think what you like," interposed Priscilla. "Come, Rebecca, don't let
us stand here in the cold all night. It is all nonsense, anyway, making
such a fuss about a trumpery novel. What business is it of his what we
read, so long as we learn our lessons? I am sure I never would have
come here if I had known what sort of place it was."
"And I am sure I wish you never had," was Tilly's parting salute.
Claribel came to her room rather later, looking very unhappy indeed.
She knew that she had told the truth, but appearances were against her,
and she felt that she was distrusted. But she would not have minded so
much, she thought, if only Fanny had not turned against her and told
lies about her. Fanny said she had seen the book in Claribel's room,
which Claribel was sure had never been there. Oh, it was very, very
hard! How could she bear it? And again came the old thought, "They
would never treat me so if I were like other people. It is just because
I am a poor lame hunchback that every one is against me."
She took her Bible and tried to read, but could not fix her attention
on the words. She knew that it was late, and that her light ought to
be out, so she extinguished it and knelt down in the dark to say her
prayers. It was very hard, and at first she could say no more than—
"Oh, help me! Make me good! Show me what to do!"
But she grew calmer, and by degrees a sense of peace and comfort stole
into her heart, and she became sensible that she was not left to bear
her trouble alone. Many precious promises, the full value of which the
dark hour of affliction only can disclose, came back to her mind, and
she felt, as many another burdened soul has done, the force of those
wonderful words,—
"As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I comfort you."
Claribel was young, and her religious life was young also; but it
was a real life, and she had this great advantage, that she was no
halfhearted Christian. She was not trying to serve God as little and
herself as much as she dared, but her eye was single and her heart
united, and thus she had confidence toward God.
She lay down at last, but she could not sleep. She had lately been
troubled with palpitation of the heart and a little difficulty of
breathing, and it seemed to her, as she turned restlessly from side to
side, as if she had a trip-hammer beating in her breast. She sat up in
bed and piled the pillows behind her, and at last fell into a troubled
slumber, from which she awoke with a sense of suffocation. The room
seemed very close, and she got up, and putting on her flannel wrapper
and a shawl, she softly opened the window.
As she did so, she saw that a bright light shone out of Fanny's window,
which was next hers, for Fanny still slept in the little room. Her
first thought was that Fanny must be ill when she heard a sound of
something knocked down and a shrill scream from Fanny. She sprang to
the door, and was met by Fanny with her night-dress all on fire, just
bursting into a blaze.
In an instant, Claribel snatched up the blazing cotton, and gathering
it in her hands and crushing it between her knees she succeeded in
putting it out.
Fanny's screams had alarmed the house, but by the time Mrs. Richardson,
who slept nearest, had reached the scene of action, the danger from
fire was over.
Fanny, who had escaped with only a slight scorching, was crying
bitterly, and Claribel lay back in her chair gasping for breath and
with her hands terribly burned. She was quite unable to speak, and it
was some time before Fanny was able to give any explanation.
"I suppose Claribel was sick and Fanny overset the light in getting up
to do something for her," said Priscilla, who had come to her cousin's
room, casting at the same time a meaning glance at Fanny.
"It wasn't, either, any such thing," sobbed Fanny, finding her voice
at last. "And I have been as wicked as I could be since you took me
from Claribel: and I am not going to tell any more lies for anybody; so
there, Priscilla Westcott!"
"How was it, then?" asked Mrs. Richardson.
"I was reading in bed," said Fanny, "and I heard Claribel get up, and
thought she would catch me, and I went to put the candle out and tipped
it over. And I should have been burned to death only for Claribel, and
she saved my life after I had told such a wicked story about her."
And again Fanny began to cry. "I said I saw that book in her room, and
I did, because I had it in there reading it when she was away, and I
have run away and done everything that was bad: but oh, Claribel, you
will forgive me, won't you?"
"I am sure I do," answered Claribel, faintly.
Mrs. Richardson was very quick-sighted. In the midst of all her anxiety
for Claribel, she had seen the look which Priscilla had bestowed on
Fanny and her glance of rage when Fanny had insisted upon telling
her own story. And she drew her conclusions and took her measures
accordingly.
"We will hear the whole story in the morning," said she. "Go to bed
now, Fanny, and don't cry any more. Priscilla, you will go directly to
my room and go to bed there."
"Why can't I go to my own room?" asked Priscilla.
"Because I prefer you should go to mine," answered Mrs. Richardson,
quietly.
"I suppose I can get my things to put on in the morning?" said
Priscilla.
"No; Miss Foster will bring you everything you need. Miss Foster, you
will please lock up Priscilla's room and keep the key."
"I don't know what I have done to be treated in this way," said
Priscilla, turning pale.
"I don't say that you have done anything," answered Mrs. Richardson;
"surely it is no great hardship to sleep in one room instead of another
for one night. My room is fully as comfortable as your own."
There was no help for it, and Priscilla was obliged to submit.
Claribel's hands were by this time wrapped in clean soft cotton
wadding, and some quieting medicine administered. Miss Foster took
Madge to her own bed, and the house was once more quiet.
CHAPTER IX.
_EXPLANATIONS._
THE next morning several people were absent from breakfast, among them
Priscilla and Fanny. Fanny had already made a clean breast of it.
"I never thought of any such thing, till one day when I was in
Priscilla's room, she asked me if I didn't want something nice to read,
and she lent me a novel she had. I knew that it wasn't a good book, but
it was interesting, and I read it and several others. I used to go to
Priscilla's room to study my lessons, and read almost all the time. And
since I have slept in the little room, I have read in bed at night.
"Then we got engaged with a story in a paper, and Priscilla said we
might get the rest of the numbers if there was a news-shop here. We
asked at Robison's, and he said he didn't keep that kind of papers.
And then Priscilla said she had seen another news-shop down near the
landing; and I said Mr. Hausen said we must never go to Sawyer's for
anything, because it wasn't a respectable place. And Priscilla said
she didn't care—she guessed it wouldn't hurt her. So we went down and
bought ever so many papers of different kinds, and a great parcel of
candy and lemons and things. Then we were afraid to come home the front
way, and we went round through Mr. Mansfield's orchard."
"Have you been to Sawyer's more than once?" asked Mrs. Richardson.
"Yes, ma'am; two or three times."
"And where are the papers and books you had?"
"Some are in Priscilla's room and some in mine; some in that little
garret place at the end of our hall, in an old basket."
"Did Claribel have anything to do with all this reading and buying of
papers?" asked Mr. Hausen.
"No, sir; indeed she didn't," said Fanny, eagerly. "She never knew
anything about it. I don't believe Claribel would tell a lie for
anything, though I do think she is cross sometimes," added Fanny.
"But, Fanny, how could you go on so?" asked Mr. Hausen gravely. "You
knew all this was wrong as well then as you do now. You knew that you
were doing what was injuring yourself and others, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then why did you keep on with it so long?"
"I don't know," answered Fanny, hanging her head. "I thought I would
leave it off ever so many times, and then Priscilla laughed at me and
said it was all nonsense, and there was always a bit of a story that
I wanted to finish. That was what I lighted my candle for last night.
I thought I would just finish one story I was reading in a paper, and
then I would give them all back to Priscilla again."
"Ah, my child, that is the rock which has wrecked many a sinner," said
Mr. Hausen. "The dram drinker thinks he will leave off drinking after
he has taken one more glass; the gambler only waits till the luck shall
turn, so that he can win one more game. Such conduct shows that you are
not honest with yourself. If you really desired to forsake your sin,